


Heiress of Slytherin

by hotgeek88



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21796831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotgeek88/pseuds/hotgeek88
Summary: Missing scenes from Deathly Hallows. From July until March, Bellatrix is missing from action. Where was she for those long nine months? Written before the release of The Cursed Child but is somewhat Cursed Child compliant.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Tom Riddle, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Heiress of Slytherin

# Chapter 1: A Failing and A Miracle

_**July 27, 1997** _

The death eaters congregated around their master. Many were injured, but they ignored their injuries in favor of the Dark Lord. Tonight had been a failure. The Potter brat had escaped again.

"What happened?!" the Dark Lord fumed, "Why does Potter still evade me?"

Getting no response from the group, he screamed with wrath and cast the cruciatus curse on one of his followers at random. The masked man bit back his screams as he twitched on the floor. Bellatrix nearly squealed in excitement. Oh, how she loved a good torture even if it was one of their own. To her disappointment however, her dratted brother-in-law strode forward kneeling at their master's feet.

"Please, my lord. There were too many. We couldn't tell which of the Potters was real My Lord. They must have been warned we would come."

"Warned?! How could they have been warned?! Are my followers not loyal?!" their lord screamed. The death eaters all began to claim their loyalty profusely pleading with the Dark Lord that they could not have betrayed him. Seemingly annoyed, the Dark Lord screamed, "Enough! Get out of my sight! All of you!"

Most did not hesitate to leave at this command, but Bellatrix knew better. It had been such a long night after all. Lazily she waved her husband off. He knew by now not to question her in this regard. Though, to be honest, she thought him relieved. He had never bed her. He found the thought disturbing. For many years, Bellatrix had resented this. She was a Black after all. How could her parents have married her off to a poof? Could she not have done better? She could. She knew she could, because she had. Disappointed in her husband, she had turned elsewhere. Her Lord had been so handsome once. She remembered clearly the first time that she saw him; Ebony black hair and the deepest, darkest eyes she had ever seen. She had fallen in love with him from the moment she'd laid eyes on him. It was no lie that she was his most faithful of followers. She would never, could never, betray the man that she loved. And so, on this night, she alone knew exactly what her Lord required. Loosening her robes, she strode forward. She began as she always did toying and playing, coaxing him to relax. As she did so, his features softened. He looked to her for the first time since the failed attack. "Are you injured?" he asked; a question he reserved for her alone, a question that proved his love to her.

"No My Lord," she purred brushing her lips against his, but he would not be distracted this night.

"You lie," he said pushing her robes aside to display a deep gash in her side, "You need a healer."

Knowing better than to argue, she conceded, and a healer was brought forth. She was annoyed with herself. Why had she not dodged the stupid curse? Oh, how she longed to be alone with her love, and now her lord would not oblige. The healer tutted about in the most annoying of fashions casting diagnostic spells all the while. Why she needed so many spells for such a simple gash, she had no idea, and it annoyed her to no end. Suddenly, the healer let out a gasp. "Oh, my dear! Congratulations," the healer said smiling furiously all the while, "Won't your husband be so pleased; A baby, an heir at last, and after so many years." Now it was her turn to gasp.

"A baby? What do you mean a baby?" she asked the healer furiously.

"Why, just what I've said Madame Lestrange. In a few months' time, you're going to be a mother!" the healer said practically screeching with excitement, "I'd say you were due around the end of February or the first of March by the looks of it."

Bellatrix gazed upon the beaming face of the healer with shock. 'A baby? A baby?!' She knew this information could mean only one thing. She was pregnant, and Lord Voldemort was the father.

# Chapter 2: The Woes of Brats and Food

_**October 27, 1997** _

Sitting on the floor of the latrine, Bellatrix seethed with anger. A mere three months of this horrid condition, and she was already sick of it. She had tortured and killed the blasted healer who had given her the news. She wanted nothing to do with the child who grew in her womb, and she had expected the same from her Lord. His reaction to her news had been quite the opposite of her expectations. Instead of furiously demanding she get rid of the little brat, he had insisted on the opposite. She would carry the child and raise it in secrecy. When the time was right, he would be a fearsome warrior for their cause. "He indeed," she thought to herself, "And if it isn't a he? What then?" This cheered her up a bit. Surely, if it were a girl, she would be allowed to dispose of it as she saw fit. After all, men were never interested in anything but sons. Her anger returned however as she took in her surroundings. "How dare he send me here!" Suddenly, an elf appeared at her side.

"Pardoning my intrusion Mistress Lestrange, but the Masters Malfoy is being wishing me to inform you that breakfast is being ready," the little elf squeaked before retreating at once away from the grumpy, tired, swollen, mad witch who had cursed it already too many times.

The thought of breakfast made her ill again, so she chose to ignore the blasted thing. She knew she had to eat eventually, but at the moment she'd rather just sit on the floor. Someone would be up to attend to her eventually. They always were. Her Lord had ordered that she receive the utmost of care, and her sister and dratted brother-in-law had taken to the task with almost too much ease. They did not seem to mind that caring for her and keeping her secret kept them out of their Lord's battles. In fact, they seemed more relaxed than she had ever seen them. But of course, she'd had her suspicions for a while now of just where their loyalties lay, and the thought of it sickened her. It was all the little brat's fault she was sure. Andromeda had always been a blood traitor, but Cissy had been practical. She and her husband had joined their Lord proudly. Their child on the other hand…she shuddered with embarrassment as she remembered the little brat's initiation. He had blubbered like a two year old when the mark touched his arm, and he had failed miserably in the first task that he'd been set to. Thankfully, Snape was able to salvage the operation in time. She still felt prickles of regret that she had not been able to personally finish that particular task for her Lord. Snape had been highly praised for his accomplishment. The child was a weak link in her Lord's forces, and she detested weak links. Through him, her sister had become weak as well, and the thought of what fate surely awaited them when they turned traitor sickened her. Children make you weak. Lifting her robes, she stared down at the small but visible bump of her womb. Her lips snarled in disgust. She hated the little thing, but she loved her Lord and would keep to his desires. A knock sounded tentatively at the door just then pulling her from her thoughts.

"Bella," her sister called through the door, "is it alright if I come in?"

It was far too early for intrusions of wellbeing. Frustrated she growled, "Go Away!"

A sigh was heard, and her sister replied, "You need to eat Bella even if you can't keep it down. The baby needs nourishment. You haven't eaten in over a day."

"I'm not hungry, and I don't care what the little brat needs. If it starves to death, that's all the better to me." She would not give in this morning. Her stomach churned in protest to the mere thought of food. She had survived in Azkaban for days on end without food and sometimes even water. The guards there thought it a clever game to see how long she'd last without nourishment and only provided the barest of amounts to keep her alive.

The door opened and Narcissa appeared hands on hips. "Now, Bella, you know better than this. Our Lord wishes for you to take care of yourself. He is counting on you to carry this child to term. Do you really wish to face his wrath when you miscarry the poor babe?"

Of course, her Lord would be most displeased if she lost the little brat. She enjoyed his temper, but it would do her no good at all to fall away from his good graces. No matter how daunting this task, she would simply have to grin and bear it. She loved and respected her Lord and would always do as he asked…even this, the most horrifyingly hideous of tasks. Growling in annoyance, she grit her teeth and made to stand. Immediately, Cissy was there to assist her, but she pushed her off with a frustrated grunt. She wasn't an invalid after all. She was only three or four months pregnant at most and was perfectly capable of picking herself off the floor without assistance. Her stomach churned traitorously at the movement, and she almost reconsidered her decision to have breakfast, but she knew she had to try…for her Lord.

"Excellent, Bella. Would you like to eat in your room or the dining room?" her sister asked.

"The dining room," she decided. She might as well use this as an opportunity to torture her brother-in-law and nephew with her presence. She knew that without her Lord's intervention in the matter, she would be most unwelcome here. Draco and Lucius stood from the table upon her entrance.

"Bella, how good of you to join us," the elder greeted her, false cheer practically dripping from his words, "And how are you feeling on this fine morning?"

"Absolutely dreadful as you should well know!" she seethed at him seating herself at the table as an elf pulled out a chair.

Lucius sat and continued to grin as though she had replied to his inquiry in the politest of manners. "Well, perhaps you will feel better after you have eaten." Turning to an elf he called, "You! Elf! Get the Mistresses something to eat at once!" The elf scrambled to obey. A plate was set before her almost before the commands left his lips and one similar appeared to Narcissa. Her stomach was repelled by the smell of the food. Taking up the toast, she nibbled at the edges. The rest she knew she could not touch today. Sighing exasperatedly, she prepared herself for yet another day of this dreadful exile.

# Chapter 3: Bed Rest

_**January 27, 1998** _

A healer ducked and dodged as curses just barely missed him. "Now, Madame Lestrange! Really! It's only for three months. You must think of the baby!"

"Avada Kedavra!" Bellatrix screamed, finally hitting her mark. Satisfied, she collapsed back against her pillows and caught her breath. Bed rest! Really! So what if she had collapsed last night and nearly lost the little brat! All the better so far as she was concerned. It was bad enough dealing with her dratted family, being confined to this house, and not being allowed to help her Lord to complete their mission, but now they wished to double her misery by confining her to bed!

A knock sounded at the door. "Is everything alright in there? I'm coming in." Narcissa entered and looked to the dead healer on the floor. "Oh, Bella, must you kill every healer that comes?"

"Yes! So long as they are all such fools! Can you honestly believe that vagrant wished me to remain in bed for an entire three months?!"

"Bed rest it is then," Narcissa replied.

Bellatrix glared at her sister reproachfully. Her fingers twitched on her wand.

"There is some good news, love," Narcissa continued.

"What sort of news could possibly be good. I've had nothing but bad since this little brat decided to encroach itself upon me."

"The Dark Lord has announced his intentions to visit the manor. Apparently, when he was informed of your present condition, he dropped everything to come. He arrives this evening."

As her sister spoke, Bellatrix was sickened to see the fear in her eyes, but as the news sank in her thoughts turned to other things. She could not deny that she viewed a visit from her Lord as most unpleasant news. How could she allow him to see her in this condition? There was not an inch of her that was not swollen and sore. Stretch lines were beginning to form on her stomach, and she simply could not stop sweating…or eating. She found it ironic that just three months ago, she could barely hold down a nibble of toast, and now, she was always hungry. Even now, she was surrounded by all number of delicacies that she'd ordered the house elves to bring to her on pain of death. The brat was not yet born and already it was as bad as its cousin in weakening its mother. She shuddered at the thought of her Lord seeing her like this. She would never live down the embarrassment, but she could not turn him away. He did love her. Didn't Cissy say that he'd dropped everything for her? Perhaps he would not care. "And yet," said the annoying little voice in the back of her head, "he does not come for you. You have asked and asked that he come for you, but it is not until the brat is in danger that he comes. It is the little brat that he loves." Shaking her head, Bellatrix pushed this thought aside. Of course, he was coming for her. He had to be.

"Did you hear me Bella?" Narcissa asked.

"Yes. I heard," Bellatrix replied, "It is absolutely wonderful news."

# Chapter 4: Agony and Pleasure

_**March 03, 1998** _

Bellatrix shrieked in agony and pleasure. Pain. Pure, sweet, blissful pain coursed through her body in waves. Her previous opinions against the child were forgotten, replaced with pure bliss. She could not believe that she had ever doubted the child. With each new wave of pain, she praised her little prince, for anyone who could cause such pain as this was only to be respected. She lost herself in it. Oh, what a joyous experience.

As the most recent wave ended and she came back to awareness, she realized that she was laughing. Her sister was beside her still as she had been from the moment her labor began. It was beginning to annoy her. She wished that everyone would just go away. She wanted to be alone with her little Lord, but Narcissa insisted on being there. "I have after all done this before, you know," she had said as though giving birth to one little brat made her an expert. The healer was fussing about again. She would kill him in the end. His excitable demeanor was disgusting, and with a name like Smith, he was certainly a mudblood.

"Oh, Excellent! Excellent!" he exclaimed, "The head has crowned at last, Madame Lestrange. It is time to push, my dear."

Her heart fell at those words. Was it really over already? Her child was obviously having fun, and she was not ready to end it. "But I'm having so much fun," she pouted aloud, "I don't want it to end yet."

For some reason, the healer seemed to find this hilarious. "Oh, but my dear, surely you would rather hold your child in your arms than to continue like this forever." He chuckled again. "Now, on the next contraction, I want you to push okay?"

Before she had time to protest, pain enveloped her again. "Why not?" she thought, and complied with the healer's demands. She was shocked to find the pain intensify as she pushed until she almost could not stand it. It was glorious, and she was glad that she had given in. All too soon, it was over, and her child's shrieks filled the air. The healer set about checking him over and wrapped him tightly in a blanket. "Give him to me," she demanded. She wanted to see her torturous little prince immediately.

The healer and her sister exchanged a glance before handing her the child. "Congratulations, Madame. Lestrange," the healer said, "you have a perfectly healthy, beautiful baby girl."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. A girl? Not a boy? Would her Lord be angry that the child was not a son? As she examined the child who now lay in her arms, she found that she was unable to care whether it was a boy or a girl. Instead of a torturous little prince, she had a torturous little princess. So what? A difference of two little letters was all. It did not change the pride and love she felt for the darling babe in her arms. Unwrapping the babe, she was pleased to see that she was absolutely perfect; ten little fingers, ten little toes, and the slightest wisp of raven hair. A grin crossed her face. This was her child, and she would raise her to be the most fearsome dark Lady to ever grace the Earth. Men and Women would bow down and tremble at her feet worshipping her as a goddess among insects, and she would rule them all alongside her father wiping the mudblood and muggle filth from the planet. Speaking of mudblood filth…raising her wand, she incanted the deadly curse and the healer fell dead to the floor. "Send for our Lord," she demanded of Narcissa, "He must see his child at once."

"Of course, Bella. He is in the parlor. I will go and fetch him."

Her Lord was at her side almost at once. "This is the child then?" he asked.

"Yes my Lord; a daughter, an heiress, a torturous little princess. Isn't she wonderful?"

"A girl?" he asked taking the child, "She is lucky to look like you. It will make passing her off as your husband's much easier."

"What do you mean?"

"You surely do not think that I can claim the child. No. She is better off growing up without those sorts of worries. If those damned fools found out about her, they would try to take her for their own motives. I will not allow the heiress of Slytherin to be tainted by those mudblood loving fools. I want her raised as my heiress, but you will have to see to her education yourself," he said as he handed the child back to her mother.

Taking the child, Bellatrix replied, "Of course, my Lord. She will never hold any love for mudbloods. She will be the perfect pureblood. I will see to it that she makes you proud, my Lord. I promise."

"Have you thought of a name?"

"It is a tradition in my family to name children after the stars. I believe Meissa is perfect. She will be a beacon for our cause."

"May I make a suggestion for her middle names? My mother's name was Merope, and I am also partial to Mehida."

"And I had thought of Ester, a powerful ruler of her people."

"Meissa Ester Merope Mehida Lestrange. A powerful name for one so small, but it will serve her well when she is older."

"Yes, my Lord. It is perfect."

"I must go now. There are things that I need to do. You will stay here and look after the child."

"But my Lord. Can I not return to the cause? I detest this, being locked away all the time. Surely, I can be of more use fighting those despicable blood traitors."

"No. The child needs you now. It will do no good to pawn her off on house-elves. You will remain here Bella. Now, I really must go." As he said this he turned heel to leave the room.

"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix replied mournfully after him, "I will obey."

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on fanfiction.net under my screen name eisamiller88 in July 2008. I am SO excited that this pregnancy is canon now after the release of The Cursed Child in 2015! I have decided to keep my work as is rather than changing the name of the child Bellatrix gives birth to as I personally like my name better. ;) Way back, I had plans to continue this story and show the child growing up after her parents die in the final battle, but I never got around to writing it and since Cursed Child gives her a future, I'm posting this as a complete work. This is to date the only complete story I've ever written and at this point it may remain so. I'm importing it here, because I rarely use fanfiction.net these days and feel this deserves a new audience. I hope you have enjoyed reading my story!


End file.
